We Carry On
by Hoozuki
Summary: Not barely moved into her new apartment for a week in an attempt to start her life over, Beth gets that new start when it literally falls into her lap in the form of an ornery redneck. Meanwhile, Daryl tries to explain why he was falling through her window in the first place. Bethyl


**_I have to write this because I'm relapsing again. Most of what Beth is going through is based on experience except for the beginning.  
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 _ **We Carry On**_

 _ **By: Hoozuki**_

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 _"And on tonight's new, 18 year old Beth Greene has finally been found, having been missing for almost two and a half weeks. She was last heard from her father, Hershel Greene, on Interstate 285, headed towards at Atlanta to see her sister, Maggie Greene, and was meeting her at ten o'clock on September 30_ _th_ _. However, she did not arrive and search and rescue teams were called in._

 _"The night of her disappearance, her car was found abandoned underneath an overpass along with her belongings, leaving no traces of the 18 year old._

 _"But tonight, her family rejoiced as the girl was found on the side of the road five miles out of Panola Mountain State Park by state police. The suspect finally identified as Officer Jay Gorman, Atlanta P.D., was found dead at the scene, shot in self-defense by the victim. Though the fact has not yet been confirmed, however, officers investigating have reason to believe that he may be the man responsible for the string of missing young girls over the past few years._

 _"While the investigation continues with this startling new evidence, Beth Greene is being treated for severe conditions, but will be in full recovery soon. Her family thanks the community for their support and faith and love in those trying times."_

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" _Our greatest pretenses are built up not to hide the evil and the ugly in us, but our emptiness. The hardest thing to hide is something that is not there._ _" –Eric Hoffer_

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 _Chapter I_

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 _Two years later…_

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 _Tick!_

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 _Tick!_

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 _ **TICK!**_

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"Miss Greene?"

Beth jumped, slightly startled from her concentrated gaze on the clock to her left. Easing her head into the turn, just like she told herself countless time, instead of snapping it, Beth looked at the woman before her. Her name was Mary something or other. Despite coming to the woman for two years now for therapy, Beth still couldn't remember her last name. It may be due to the fact that she didn't like her very much. Mary was too smiley sometimes when all Beth really wanted to do was kick and scream at her to stop it. Yet here Mary was. Smiling. _Again._

When she had Beth's attention, the therapist looked back at the notepad in her hand. "Why were you looking at the clock?" she questioned as she scribbled something down before looking at her again.

Pretending she didn't know what Mary was talking, Beth smiled wide-eyed. "What?"

Smiling in turn, Mary pointed to the clock with the eraser part of her pencil. "You were staring at the clock. Anxious to go?"

The truth was that she was anxious to go because today was the last day she would be seeing Mary. But mostly because that clock just seemed so damn loud. Every week, every Friday from ten to eleven, she just wanted to just jump up on the couch, grab the stupid thing, and throw it to the floor. It was so annoying with its continuing ticks. It sounded like drums to her ears. It was actually almost as annoying as that voice in her head that contradicted everything she said. Every second she spent with Mary, the more she wanted to rip her hair out and yell at her for smiling too much. She knew she didn't care. It was the woman's job to smile. It wasn't like she cared about Beth as a person. No, all she knew about Beth was the Beth Greene on the news—the girl everyone in this stupid town was ever going to talk about.

Yet, instead of saying all these things—instead of letting it all out—Beth simply smiled and said, "Yeah, I am. I'm finally starting college this year."

 _I'll finally get to be alone._

Mary nodded, chuckling a little. "Yes, it'll do you some good to start anew again. Have you contacted that doctor I told you about? Dr. Horvath?"

 _Why? It's not like he can doing anything._

Beth frowned at this. "I'm fine, Mary. I don't—"

 _I'm not fine—won't ever be again._

"I know you are, but it's still good to keep up with your sessions in case—"

"In case I try to kill myself again?" Beth cut off tersely, frown gone and replaced by an icy expression.

 _Not that she's wrong..._

Her therapist sighed. "What happened with your mother and then what happened to you—"

"I don't want to talk about that. It's all in the past."

 _It's not._

Beth had turned to look at the clock again. It was only ten-fifty. Damn. Ten more minutes with this woman.

Mary stared at her for a long moment, the acute observation making her uncomfortable. "Beth, everything that happened to you happened to close to each other. Not everyone can really recover as fast and you did. That worries me."

At this, Beth furrowed her brows. "Why? Shouldn't that be good?"

 _Just let me leave!_

Shaking her head, the therapist flipped back through the pages of her notes taken over the course of two years. "Yes and no. I'm worried that you might relapse."

"I won't."

 _Probably will._

"You _might_ , and that's why I want you to go see Dr. Horvath. He's a very good psychologist."

Already done with this conversation, Beth merely sighed and nodded her head. "Alright."

 _Damn she's good._

"Good," said Mary, apparently pleased that she was able to sway the young woman into agreement. "I'll call him and let him know. Well Beth…"

Beth, taking that as a cue, stood up with Mary following.

"It's been an honor. I hope everything goes well for you. Know that you're not alone. You have people who care about you."

Nodding, she shook the woman's hand. "Thanks for everything, Mary."

 _Not really._

With that, she turned to leave with stiff shoulders, unable to shake the prickling sensation when someone was at her back and watching her. It wasn't until she was out of the building that she finally breathed a sigh of relief and dropped the smile, her face automatically falling blank with no one around to keep up the pretense.

Walking across the parking lot and pulling out her phone, Beth stared at the device for a moment before she reluctantly dialed Maggie's number and tucked it between her cheek and shoulder. It rang three times before the line was picked up with a breathless "Hello."

Beth raised a brow at this as she got into her car and started the ignition. "Did you run?"

Maggie panted several more times before she could answer properly, and when she did, she still sounded winded. "Was just carryin' your box of books to the truck. Did'int realize you had so many."

"Sorry; I would've helped, but Daddy really wanted me to go to the last session," she griped, reversing her car, phone now in her left hand. Oh…if her daddy saw her driving like this, he'd pitch the biggest fit, saying how dangerous it was. Pfft! If only that was the only dangerous thing he had to worry about.

"How'd it go?" To anyone else, the question would have sounded casual; but to Beth, there was hesitance and reluctance. And hearing that—that tiptoeing tone—made Beth all the more annoyed and pissed.

"Fine," answered Beth, straining her voice to sound casual as well. She knew Maggie was trying her best, still that didn't mean that it didn't grate on her nerves when her sister acted like she was fragile glass. It's been four years!

Maggie hummed in disbelief. "Sure Beth."

This time Beth knew she was kidding around as a small smile cracked open. "I was countin' down the time."

Her older sister busted out laughing on the other side while she herself giggled lightly as well, slowly merging onto the highway. Her town was small and among many other small towns that surrounded Atlanta. What was nice about that is that her street, Fairburn Road, connected to the highway and the town only twenty minutes away from the city. It was just one of those old highways that had a speed limit of 65, but still had a two-way stop sign and a turning lane in the middle of it before hitting 80 miles several miles down. And although she could have gone to Atlanta and saw this Dr. Horvath in the first place, her daddy thought it was a better idea to have her go to the therapist in the next town over where she couldn't get overwhelmed by all the attention the media was giving her. Unfortunately, the problem with small towns was that news traveled fast and she couldn't go to school without being stared at like she was some weird science experiment or freak show. Once she graduated, Beth was still feeling pretty isolated and stayed on the farm to help out all the while maintaining her therapy however awful it was. But now that she got accepted to Georgia State, she was going to be moving to Atlanta—away from the therapist and away from those pitying eyes.

"Yeah, I know how much you hated that lady. You only told me a thousand times!" Maggie laughed, and Beth could imagine her sister rolling her eyes. "So when you goin' to be home?"

Turning on her clicker, Beth slowed down and got into the middle lane and then waited for each car to pass on the old country highway. It still amazed her that this road was still here and the way it was. All around, the highways tended to diverge from these old roads becoming the interstate highways, but this one survived. Somehow, this fact oddly resonated with her. There was no way she'd have anything in common with it, but the mere simple fact that it was still here gave her some hope. That if it can survive, then so can she. But the problem with that were her emotions. Despite believing in the good of the world, Beth could see that her emotions was not good in a world like this where there was still stealing, killing, and…raping. She realized early on that if she wanted to survive, then she needed to harden up and quell those feelings and contain them and hide them. Because really…it wasn't like anyone really cared, right?

After informing her sister that she was going to be home in a few minutes, Beth hung up and sagged in her seat, releasing a heavier sigh—one that carried a weight far too great for her shoulders to carry. Despite going to therapy for four years now, Beth still felt as alone as ever. But she supposed she would with the way she was isolating herself and shutting everyone out, but it was the only way she could protect herself, too. After stumbling out into the road from those dark woods, she knew she would never be the same. She didn't trust anyone anymore which was strange since she was still contradicting herself with hope. Yet she knew there was a fine line between trusting and hoping. She could still hope that there was some good in people, but she could also not trust them as well. It was a very strange thought whenever she did think about it. Was there still good in her? Probably not. She did kill a man to survive.

 _You had to…_

No! She shook her head. There had to be another way to save herself. Killing wasn't the only path.

 _It was._

Damn that voice. No matter how much she denied it, it was always right. And it was that voice that told her to keep everyone at arm's distance emotionally. Since her attempt four years ago, Maggie and her father would always make sure she didn't have anything to hurt herself with. But after what happened a couple of years ago…well, let's just say that she hadn't been able to get alone time without it bordering on invasion of her privacy. It just got to the point that she literally had to beg her sister and dad to let her out, just even for a few minutes. Naturally, they were both nervous seeing as she had all but vanished for those two long agonizing weeks, but she promised them that she was just going to walk around the farm.

What they didn't know was that she had slipped a knife up her sleeve to take with her. She wasn't going to attempt suicide again. No, not after seeing her dad's face, but she just couldn't take this emptiness inside of her. She hated it. She just wanted to feel something even if it was pain, even if it was temporary. For two years, she had a total of twenty small slashes on the underside of her forearm. It was the perfect place because no one would notice them until _after_ they were healed. Even then, the wound had healed to a near invisible mark, blending in with her already pale skin.

At first, that method seemed to work for the first couple of months after her kidnapping; but Beth was starting to find that that technique was no longer working like it used to. The numbness had felt so heavy those days—even heavier now—and she hadn't known what to do. It was scaring her because that voice was telling her to once again to just end it. She wanted to so bad. Dear god, did she want to. But that promise she made her sister and dad was keeping her from doing so. For that, she almost resented them from taking that choice away from her. They called her selfish? What about them? Weren't they just as selfish for not letting her go? Why couldn't she decide to go her own way? Why was that so wrong?

So when she realized that cutting into her skin was working anymore, Beth began to look for another outlet. It was then that she had run into Jimmy again, and she knew what she wanted. Of course he was averse about the whole thing, taking her mental trauma into account; however, after much persuasion—not very much on her part apparently—he agreed. But he wasn't doing it right. She wasn't sure why, but she just knew that he wasn't. She still wasn't feeling anything. She just wanted to feel again. Not only was that the problem, but Jimmy had started to look at her strangely and it made her feel sick. So before the situation could get any worse, Beth broke it off after a few months of fucking around.

She knew that this was the wrong way to go about dealing with her issues, especially considering what happened to her in those woods. However, it was the only way she could think of without feeling so disgusted with herself; and when it wasn't disgust, then it was this unending void.

Whether it was wrong or not, Beth just needed to find someone else who didn't know about her before that voice actually convinces her and have her go through with it permanently. With that thought in her head, Beth took a deep breath and plastered on that smile before getting out of her car and greeting her family.

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 _Void_

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 _SLAM!_

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The door of the bar was slammed loudly behind them, but he wasn't bothered as he continued to roughly maneuver her back until they weren't underneath the streetlight and in the darkness of the alleyway. It wasn't the most ideal place to fuck, but with booze circulating his system, pleasure, not comfort, was the only thing on his list of priorities. That and to vent.

"Fuck!" he hissed as the small hand unexpectedly grabbed his crotch painfully. "Dammit, Karen!"

The brunette chuckled before dropping to her knees. "What's the matter? I thought you like it rough," she quipped, nimble fingers working to undo his button and pull down the zipper.

Daryl snorted. "Yeah, but don't wanna git injured in the process." His words grew quietly near the end as he moved her curly hair from her face to watch. His lungs took in a large gulp of air while the head of his cock entered her warm mouth. Groaning low in his throat, the man threw his head back, letting her mouth work up and down his shaft, his hand automatically grabbing her hair.

Normally, Daryl wasn't the sort of man to fuck in public, but when he did, it was always with the same woman, Karen. He happened to meet her in this very bar a few months ago, and the two of them just kind of clicked on a physical level. Neither wanted to be in a relationship, but just needed that natural release of stress that sex allowed. Every weekend they'd meet up for drinks. It didn't take long for the two of them to get wasted and then he would have his way roughly with her. Usually, they were either up against the wall with him pounding up at her or she was bent over and he was slamming his cock into her like a mad man.

But seeing as tonight would be the last time they would see each other, she having actually found someone that she might want to be with, Daryl decided that all his pent up frustration would be taken out on her as he suddenly grasped her head and held it in place. Then without warning her, though it seemed like she knew as she kept still and grabbed his thighs, he began thrusting into her mouth. He could feel her throat convulsed around him each time he caught her gag reflex, but he ignored her digging fingers and continued to pump frantically. Grunts filled the alleyway coupled with the sound of her gagging as with each thrust he poured out his anger.

His breathing increased as he could feel himself grow closer and it wasn't until she was coughing that he pulled away.

"Holy shit, Daryl!" she yelled, coughing in between with a hand to her chest. "You bas—"

But he didn't let her finish her sentence. Instead, he pulled her up by the arms and threw her to the wall, cushioning her head with his hands before kissing her violently. He didn't understand why he was so angry when she told him that she found someone. It wasn't like the two of them were together. They were both using each other for stress relief. He knew that. He knew that, yet he couldn't help but feel betrayed by it. Not like he ever told her his deepest darkest secrets because they were too busy fucking most of the time, but he figured she got where he was coming from. But no, she was leaving him, too.

It seemed she still understood him a bit as she relented towards his rough advances and let him do what he needed. His hands had already gotten her jeans undone and were now turning her around, so that he could force his way into her without pause. She let out a scream then, and he had to wrap his hand around her mouth as he thrust in and out, in and out of her mercilessly.

At the rate he was going, Daryl knew he wasn't going to last long, so took that hand and slid it down until he felt her clit and started rubbing just as furiously as he was fucking her.

"Ah! Daryl stop!" she cried out, hands curling into fists. "I'm coming!"

But he didn't stop. He just kept on going past her orgasm, bending her so far down that she was bracing the wall by her ankles. Gritting his teeth, he pumped one, two, three times before coming and spilling into her. Spent, he pulled himself out and stumbled backwards against the opposite wall, panting heavily as he stared silently and guiltily at Karen while she fixed herself.

Shamefully, once he caught his breath, he tucked himself back into his pants, and then slumped to the dirty alley ground. He averted his eyes when he noticed that she was crouched in front of him. Her hand gently placed itself on his cheeks in order to lift his face to hers.

She smiled softly. "Hey, you alright?"

Daryl snorted bitterly. "Are you?"

Karen shrugged and plopped herself next to him. "Still doing pretty good," she answered, paused for a moment, and then said, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Nah; so what's his name?" Daryl asked instead, changing the subject.

"Tyreese Williams," she said with a smile so wide it made Daryl feel even guiltier. "He runs the hardware store here. His sister is a firefighter."

The man sighed heavily. "Well, he better treatcha right."

Realizing that he was giving her his blessing, Karen leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Daryl."

Nodding, he answered in kind, "See ya round."

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Daryl stopped on the fifth floor landing, the highest floor of the rundown apartment building he lived at, and looked at the door to his right. On days he wanted to get away from his landlord, Daryl would actually use the fire escape from that apartment since his was not privileged enough to have one. However, it seemed as if that route was no longer usable. From what he had heard, someone was finally moving in and he won't be the only one on the fifth floor anymore. To be honest, he was kind of annoyed about this. It was nice just to have that floor to himself; but he didn't run the building, so he couldn't complain much.

Really though, despite its outer appearance, the inside was pretty darn decent and kept up to date. It was all thanks to the landlord's wife, Carol, that everything was up to code and standards. Honestly, if he hadn't liked Carol and the fact that he usually kept to himself, he would have stepped in and punched the man and then some for what he does to his wife and kid. If he was any other kind of man, he would have helped Carol and daughter out by now. But he wasn't. He was just as abused and used up as she is. It was probably why he and she got along so well. Damaged people just gravitate towards other damaged people, he guessed.

Well, whoever moved in next door to him wasn't his problem or concern. So long as they never bothered him, he didn't care who they were. Shrugging away the thoughts of the future tenant, Daryl unlocked the door to his apartment, revealing a fairly neat home. Unlike his older brother, Daryl actually liked living in a clean space—given this was the first time he actually had a place.

After deciding to leave Merle two years ago, his life couldn't be better as bad as that may sound. But Merle wasn't good for him. The man was always drifting around, never staying in one place. He was either being chase by cops or his dealers for not paying up, and after having to clean up after his brother's mess one too many times, Daryl decided that it was time to go. Now, he had a stable job working as a mechanic at Jim's Auto, and he had an apartment—both of which he had never had before. And honestly, it felt great to be earning his money the right way for once.

Still, in spite of that, looking at his apartment, Daryl couldn't help but feel a little empty. Sure, the man was a big ole' pain in his ass, but he was still his older brother. Simply put, he missed the guy.

Dropping into his worn recliner after grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge, Daryl took a slow slip and absently wondered if this numbness would ever go away.

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Sitting by the window of her childhood home, Beth stared at the dark moonless sky. Her mind was blank. Her heart was empty. Her whole being was black just like the night outside. No amount of light would be able to touch her no matter how far and how hard she reached. She just could not bring herself to accept it. These thoughts, these never ending thoughts. They seem to be the only thing that was ruling her life. They weighed so heavily on her agonized heart. Though she knew that she should work harder to stop them, she just couldn't. Didn't know how. How was she supposed to do that? Positive thinking? Pfft. Like that had worked before. How can she stop being so hard on herself when it was all everyone was expecting of her? They expected her to be happy. They expected her to be a good daughter. A good student. To be kind. To be compassionate.

But she didn't want to be any of that. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to be bad. To hate. To be cruel.

But she couldn't do that.

It wasn't in her nature sadly.

Beth scoffed bitterly, and looked down at her arm where blood pooled into small beads. One of the beads had popped and now trailed down her arm like vines. She had succumbed to that voice in a moment of weakness; however, remembering her promise to Maggie and her dad, she took the knife and cut that very first slash on the underside of her arm, creating an 'x' instead of cutting over the scar on her wrist. Her tear filled blue eyes stared angrily at the blood, wishing she could just change.

 _You did change._

Beth shook her head. _'Not enough.'_

The voice didn't answer back this time.

With her lower lip trembling, Beth cried silently.

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 _Please..._

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 _Someone please help me..._

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 _I can't stop..._

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So I just needed to get this out because...really...I...I'm having a really hard time here. My depression and anxiety disorder is getting the best of me, and I just needed a way to relieve this pain I'm feeling. Everything written will be as seen through my eyes. The scars written are my scars. I do have twenty criss-cross scars.

So if anyone is uncomfortable or have never been around a person with a mental disorder, this is what life is like for one. You don't have to read this if you don't want to. Like I said, this is the only way I can convey my thoughts however dark they may be.

Please be kind. Depression and general anxiety disorder is real for those who suffer from it. It is NOT "JUST A PHASE".

Hoozuki


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